Project Crossroads ( Open RP )

[Jemmalass]

(( This is an RP where the horde and alliance can communicate fully with one another in every extent, they use the goblin's native tongue to cross communicate with one another so feel free to speak in orc or common {making sure to note you are speaking in that languaget via: [Common] / [Orcish] }. ))

Jemmalass sat in Ratchet fishing off the shore. He sighed lazily as he reeled in yet another random box of debris.

"Ah be tired ah gettin' dese bahxes, mon." He threw the box backinto the water, watching it drift slowly out to sea.

*CRA-CRUNCHKKAK*

Jemmalass blinked watching the box split into peices by a boat he didn't recognize pull into the Ratchet port. He stood up quickly, the second it hit his ears.

Alliance.

They began pouring off the boat, atleast twenty to thirty on that boat...he looked past the boat. An entire armadda! Jemmalass scrambled quickly to the goblin flight master throwing his coins down on the nearby table and jumping onto a windrider and soaring off into the sky.

Jemmalass scrambled a small tawny bird out of a cage attached to his backpack and quickly scribed a note.

Armadda....Ratchet....Headed Towards Crossroads....Send Reinforcements

Jemmalass sliped the note into a carrying case attached to the tiny birds leg before tossing the bird over his shoulder. He only prayed he could warn Crossroads before it was too late.

[Jemmalass]

(( Think about it, Crossroads is a VERY vulnerable spot to take, it cuts Thunderbluff off from the rest of the horde forces and it's easily reachable via Ratchet, or atleast that seems the logical answer for the invasion. The alliance forces have been ordered to invade by their officals. Basically, the alliance and horde can take several paths in our story: Fight on the front lines of this battle, figure out why this sudden attack has taken place, or whatever you feel your character would do if this happend, very suddenly.))

- - - - -

The orc stared at the note in her hands and looked back at the troll, shocked somewhat.

"[Orcish] ah...don...how you know this real?" the orc started, when someone nearby called out, "[Orcish] Look! To the east! What's that, there?" The orc turned and her eyes widened a large cloud of dust was moving towards the crossroads.

"[Orcish] Light the beacon! Send out the warcry!" The orc yelled before, turning to the troll, "[Orcish] I need you. Get everyone here ready for battle!"

- - - -

As the orc spoke to Zusteakai, red smoke began to billow out from high above the crossroads in the watch tower. An orc guard blew hard into the large horn attached to the tower, sounding the cry of battle far across the barrens. One by one the watch towers began to light, spreading across the barrens and beyond.

- - - -

"[Common] Sir!" A lieutent barked as he entered the captain's quarters of one of the many ships now docked in Ratchet. "The horde has received word of our arrive."

"[Common] Excellent....most excellent. How do things fair in Stormwind?"

"[Common] Things are going as planned sir, the civilans expect nothing. Same report from Darnassus and Ironforge."

"[Common] Ah. Most excellent, indeed."

"[Common] Sir, what will we be doing next?"

"[Common] From you, nothing. I on the other hand have much to do...and so little time."

"[Common] Am I dismissed then, sir?"

"[Common] Ah, I almost forgot" He rose from his chair and walk up to the lieutent. "[Common] Your reward." the man continued a smile spreading across his face.

"[Common] Oh yes...well I had thought you forgotten but-" *URK*

The man's hand shot out quickly grasping the lieutent's face tight. The lieutent began thrashing violently making chocking noises.

"[Gutterspeak] Now Now, it's not so bad. . .being one of the undead." The man cackled as the lieutent's body fell to the floor of the cabin with a sickening thud.

"[Gutterspeak] Now, I must be getting to Undercity. So much to do, so little time."

[Trike]

The boat had not even fully birthed when most of the men onboard rushed off - Some of them leaving through the narrow gangplanks, and some launching themselves over the railings into the blue ratchet waters. Trike stood on one of the upper levels of the deck, leaning on his heavy steel war mace, watching the young adventurers pour off the ship, each trying their best to out scream the man beside them.

Trike was still puzzled at why exactly he was here, in charge of the first ship of many to dock in the Goblin Port. It seems like he must have been in the wrong place at the right time. During his long adventure away from Stormwind he had been asked by a friend to talk to the Baron in Booty Bay. After completing the long Gryphon flight and his task he decided that one night spent in a warm bed and comfortable sheets would be a welcomed break from the perilous life he had been living recently. That one day soon became much longer as Trike found himself licensed out to do the bidding of many of the townsfolk.

Needless to say, it came as a suprise to him one night when the room he was renting at the Inn filled with rogues, all wearing masks and brandishing swords.

"What are you doing here?" Trike said as he fell to floor trying to free himself from his tangled sheets.

"Are you a servant of the alliance?" Replied the only rogue with his sword sheathed. It apperead that he was the leader of this party.

"Do you know who you are talking to?" Trike answered angrily, " I am a champion of the alliance. Known in Stormwind for unraveling the case of the defias rogues, and Honoured in Ironforge and Darnassus for all of the work I have done for their city, and all of the trouble I have caused the Horde. I've probably been fighting in Battles longer then you have been able to button your own shirt."

Quick glances were passed around the group of Rogues, and slowly they all pulled back their hoods to reveal their faces.

"You better come with us." said the younger human male who was leading the group. He almost sounded relieved.

Quickly putting on his battle armour, Trike slipped his feet into his boots, and picked up one of many weapons littered on the floor: a broad sword with the insignia of the alliance on it. Leaving his room he walked out of the inn to see the dead corpses of horde strewn about the common room. Some with knives in their backs seated around a card table, and some still twitching, not yet dead from their slit throats. Stepping over one such body Trike thought to himeslf, "well, it looks like Stormwind is going to have to wait again."

[Trike]

Walking along the winding planks that made up Booty Bay, Trike was able to see what had happened to the town. The city was filled with members of the alliance, a varitable army of people. Most were doing patrols through the many houses and shops, he could only assume that they were looking for more members of the horde. Another look around the town almost proved his point, as dead bodies of orcs, taurens and trolls littered the planks. At first he could not understand why no forsaken were among the dead, but after turning around the next corner of the path it was made clear; A massive fire lay to the side of the path, and upon closer look it was easy to see skeletal shapes - Many who did not know better thought the only way to kill the undead was to burn them.

Trike continued to follow the small group of people through the town, and up the incline that lead towards the mouth of the cave. Taking a look back to the city, Trike saw something that angered him greatly. All of the storekeepers who had been of horde races, and any human that shared a store with them were hung for all to see off of the Inn's rafters. Saying a quick prayer to himself for the dead, Trike brushed past the two guards at the opening of the cave.

"Who's running this whole operation?" he asked irritatidly to his guides.

"We are a force under the command of Lord Northwell-"

"Evan is in charge? Where is he?" Interrupted trike.

But before the guides could get an answer a group of officers appeared, their importance was evident through the armour they wore; heavy plates of gold and silver adorned their body, and their weapons must have been from the finest crafters of Ironforge.

Breaking away from the group of rogues who had lead him so far, Trike ran towards the group of men, greeting one with a great hug, the kind that is only shared by two friends who have known each other for a long time.

"Trike!" exclaimed the man returning the embrace. He was smaller in stature then trike, and had longer black hair, " I thought you were off in winterspring on.....business, what brings you to this side of the lake?"

"Well Evan, I needed a summer holiday," laughed out Trike, making it evident that there was a much greater story to be told.

"well man, I thank the light I ran across you here, How d'you feel about going on another adventure together" Said Evan followed by a hardy slap to Trike's back.

It wasn't an hour or so later that Trike found himself walking along the dock towards the first boat of twelve to set sail on the adventure. About to step onto the gangplank, he took a look back to the town. There were bodies of those who tried to swim away in the harbour, filled with arrows, and the fire near the path had grown even larger, illuminating the entire town. After taking a second to absorb it all, Trike turned and climbed up onto the boat.

As the ropes were untied and pulled onboard, the ship set sail for Ratchet. The mission was simple: Take Ratchet, and then take the Crossroads. This was commanded by Lady Prestor, as intelligence revealed to her that the King of Stormwind was being held captive there.

[Trike]

As the men plowed off the ship, Trike noticed a single troll get up from the docks and begin to run away to safety.

"Should I shoot him?" said Nyela, Trike's second in command, who at that moment in time had an arrow notched to her bow.

"No. Let him tell the others, there is no sport on a sneak attack. As long as we get the gryphons up to stop any reinforcements from flying in, the nearest large horde city is a two day ride away. We should be outside the Crossroads by nightfall. Let them arrange whatever form of a militia they can." Answered Trike, who didn't even take his eyes off the rolling surf.

After a few moments Nyela and Trike descended down the stairs. Trike was considered tall for a man, standing about six feet and two Inches. Dressed in his best plate armour, his bright and long red hair seemed to shine in the bright sun, and the heat seemed to radiate off of him; He was the very picture of a servent of the light. Often times people would joke with him saying that he did not need torches at night, as he glowed in the dark. Because of this he stood a very stark contrast to Nyela, one of the five night elves in the 2400 person army. She was about the same size as Trike, but very dark, and clothed completely in leather and the fur of a monseterous bear she felled. Compared to Trike she had about as much personality as a rock, which can be said for nearly all Night Elves. Over the four days it took to cross the ocean, she stayed in cabin with her pet wolf, only to emerge when requested by Trike to help stratagize.

By the time they got off of the boat and stepped onto the Ratchet dock, his men had already taken over the defenceless town. The small portion of the army that had landed with Trike were ordered to only kill the people of Ratchet if they attacked first. When the assault was officially done, 25 members of the horde had been killed, and 44 taken prisoner. As the other boats began to arrive and drop off their men, Trike had the colours of Stormwind hoisted high into the sky. The Assault had begun!

((Sorry, I'm having fun with this one))

[Jemmalass]

Jemmalass arrived in Crossroads to see a small militia awaiting his arrival. He noted a seasoned looking troll, judging by his armor and weapons, a hunter. He approached and saluted.

"[Troll] First Sergeant Jemmalass. Reporting. I guess you were the one who received my note then." Jemmalass spoke eyeing the small force, he sighed knowing not a single one of the horde here would live to see another day but, there was hope to stall the alliance long enough for the Horde military to arrive.

- - - -

"[Gutterspeak] Did you hear? Booty Bay's been completely wiped out."

"[Gutterspeak] I heard that they've been burning Forsaken bodies to make sure we're dead."

"[Gutterspeak] And THEY call US monsters."

The chatter of the attacks had filled the sewers of the Undercity leaving none to even notice a shadowy figure slipping through the crowds. Silently ascending the steps to a side hallway of the sewers leading to a large opening far from the main entrance to the Undercity.

"[Gutterspeak]So...Vicailde...what news do you bring me?" A wrinkled old decaying man spoke in hushed voice

"[Gutterspeak]Very good news indeed, the Horde and Alliance believe that the treaty has broken and they have begun a full fledged war. The Armada has just landed in Ratchet."

"[Gutterspeak]And did you plant our...insurance?" The man questioned with a smirk.

"[Gutterspeak]Oh yes. It has already begun, so my lord, you will have the largest undead army in the world, possibly rivaling the lich king himself." Vicailde spoke but, regretted what he said the moment it left his mouth.

"[Gutterspeak]POSSIBLY? Definately." He glared at Vicailde with his gray lifeless orbs one would call eyes.

"[Gutterspeak] I also believe that his name was forbidden to be mentioned."

"[Gutterspeak]yes..well...I apologize mast-ER!" Vicailde froze and his eyes roled back up into his head his flesh began to decay and he fell to the ground. He lay still for a few moments before rising slowly.

"[Gutterspeak]Is...is that form no longer needed, master?" Vicailde asked weakly.

"[Gutterspeak]Oh yes...it is... I just know how much you enjoy...pretending..to live once more. I see the lust in your eyes, the ability to hunger and taste fruits and delights once more...but as I said." The old rotting corspe lifted a finger.

"[Gutterspeak] Do NOT doubt my power again." As he spoke Vicailde's skin began to be restored to what it once was and he let out a wavery breath of relief.

"[Gutterspeak]I am sorry I doubted your power, master." Vicailde kneeled, as the corpse let out a feirce cackle that echoed through the sewers, to be drowned out by the news of an approaching army.

[Zasein]

Crossroads is under attack. The message arrived two minutes ago in the Hall of Heroes. It would take time to gather forces to repel the invasion, as all things involving an army did. But he was ready. He had volunteered to go to the crossroads and take command of the defenses there, provided that another that outranked him was not already there. And now he was riding on a wyvern to the crossroads, ready to fight.

He saw the alliance force approaching the crossroads from the wyverns back, blue-gold banners flying under the hot barrens sun. as soon as the wyvern's feet touched the ground, he was off its back, and running towards the east gates, looking for the mark of an officer on the nearby warriors tabards. Soon, he spotted one, Legionnaire Zusteakai.

He ran towards Zusteakai, and called. "Whats the situation, Legionnaire?"

[Trike]

"We need those Gryphons up now!" barked Trike to the team of gryphon masters in their roughly established war camp just outside the crossroads, "Another one of those large bats just landed in the town."

"Your apologies m' Lord," said Barruk Riverstone in explanation, " We had most o' the Gryphons up all day, but we 'ave been tryin to saddle the last few up for the past few hours. That sneaky devil must'a snuck in as our patrols switched." Barruk was a good stout Dwarf, and he was right; the Gryphons had been up most of the day, and that was the first of several wyvern to make it through the flying defences. It was possible to see the still lumps of those who hadn't littered about the Barrens.


Shortly after his visit with the dwarf, Trike was called aside for a meeting with the other 11 captains and Evan Northwell. Entering the war tent the atmosphere completely changed. It was a darker place, lit by torches, with a big oaken table in the middle of the room. Placed around the table were large barrels for seats. "Classy," Trike thought to himself. Taking their seats around the table, Northwell began his speach.

"The battle for the crossroads should not be a long one, and little losses are excpected on our part. The defences of the town itself are actually quite primative," explained Northwell," They consist of an outer wall of Canvas, a ditch followed by an inner wooden palisade. Tall Draw bridges mark the entrances on all four sides of the road. Our attack will be simple: Starting late tonight we well press hard on the eastern side of the town. Pressing a strong frontal force we hope to draw almost all of their small milita to defend that side. Before the Attack itself begins though, I would like ships ten, eleven, and twelve to ride north along Gold road; make it appear as if you are heading to defend against oncoming forces. Once you are past sight of the town, turn back and hide just within range of the walls."

"Next," Northwell continued, " as our troops push hard on the eastern side, a night elf Rogue will head to the western gate and open it. Upon opening it the men from ships ten, eleven, and twelve will enter the city. Trike, I would like you to lead that attack, tell Nyela to assume control of your men."

Nodding to show Evan he understood, Trike tried to hide his satisfaction. This promotion ment that he was officially second in charge of the mission. About to enquire about how they were to ensure the King was not murdered, Nyela burst in through front flaps of the tent.

" Your Honour," she panted out, now trying to catch her breath, "It appears that Durotar may in fact be closer then we imagined, I've lost a scout to a large party of orcs, who were setting up camp on the border of the Barrens. Large groups kept pouring into the camp, and my group of scouts watched their numbers increase by two-fold. a patroling party foud one of my scouts, and the others barely made it out. They estimate 800 troops who will be ready to move out very soon." Finishing her quick speach she finally managed to catch ehr breath.

"Very well," said an obvioubsly concerned Evan Northwell, " Trike update her on what is happening, as for now. We move out, we no longer have any time to spare. Men, I WILL be having supper in that town tonight."

And thus the seige began

((Maybe another alliance reader could take the partof a Captain))

[Zasein]

"I'll join the forces at the east gate then. Good luck Zusteakai." Zasien said, nodding. He made his way over to the collection of horde warriors, relaxed in the face of battle. Looking out over the wall from a low hilltop, he could see the alliance forces massing for attack.

The calm before the storm. He thought, the only sound that could be heard was the defenders armor clinking together. Not a bird sang in the air; not even the background buzzing of insects sounded out through the air. Suddenly, the grating sound of a grunt sharpening his weapon rang over the force, the eerie grind adding to the foreboding sense that filled the crossroads.

Then he heard it, the faint sound of hundreds of mail boots hitting the earth. The army would begin attacking, the bulk of the force was moving towards them. The storm comes.

[Jemmalass]

"[Common] Steady that line!" Drayan called, noticing a loosening line on on of the many catapults now headed to the Undercity.

"[Common] Remember, men. Aim for the Zepplin tower first cut these undead bastards from their monsterous allies. Today shall be known as the day that the alliance once again ruled!" Drayan cried out, his men cheering. Drayan paused and looked around the dark and eerie woods, he did not like this land, it was not what it once was. The undead had warped it into it's own hideous version of the past.

Drayan blinked before gritting his teeth.

"[Common] Crossbowers READY! Militia prepare yourself!" Drayan called out drawing his sword.

"[Common] We are NOT alone." He growled staring into the darkness of the forests the medium force of the balista was to clear the path for the later army to come through, which was a very odd tactic. Usually the balista and seige weapon would follow the main military, not sneak attack first.

"Eeyah!" A militia cried out and fell to the ground.

"[Common] Rogues!" Drayan cried out charging the dark covered figured who dodged and dissapeared before his eyes.

"[Common] Defensive positions! Full Stop!" Drayan call backing his men into a tight circle, the forest seeming to grow darker.

- - - -

Jemmalass shoved kneeled down and placed his head against the flat of his blade and closed his eyes.

SHIRVALLAH. I HAVE COME TO YOU ONCE AGAIN. LET THIS BATTLE BE A SHORT ONE THAT LEADS TO NO WARS. GIVE STRENGTH TO THOSE WHO WILL FALL IN BATTLE TODAY, GIVE MORE TO THEIR FAMILIES AND YOUNGLINGS THEY LIVE BEHIND.

"[Troll]And May I Find HIM On The Battlefield, Give HIM The Strength Of Ten, For Any Weaker And He Will Fall By My Hand." Jemmalass finished aloud, opening his eyes sharply staring straight at his blade. He slowly stode up and readied his Zin'rokh.

Death. . . thirst. . . the one hath come. . .

Jemmalass paused, there was that whispering once more and shook off the feeling of being watched before turning back to the milita. He slowly stepped to the front.

"[Orcish]Dere be manah ah ju who feah death. Ah tell ju, dere be nuttin' tah feah. Ah have met death an' ah be seein' dere tru face, mon." Jemmalass spoke loudly and pointed over the crowd of horde.

"[Orcish]Ju ah death, dey ah death, death be ah mahtal, mons. Dah day ju slahtah ju deah be dah day ju be cahm ahmahtal!" Jemmalass finished turning sharply to lead the attack.

"[Orcish]Ah mah be ah firs' sahgant bah, let mah led dis ahtahk. Ju be needed, 'ere mon." Jemmalass stated standing ready at the gate.

[Trike]

Within the hour Trike had his small army of about six hundred in the appropriate possition, a fairly large hill facing the north and western entrances. From where they stood the people in the town could not see the hidden forces, but from the top of the hill to the gate was no more then a hundred meter run.

"It seems to easy." Trike thought to himself, but no sooner had the thought ceased when the first signs of battle could be heard.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Your King lies behind those walls!" Yelled Evan Northwell, pacing back and forth in front of his forces, "We are here today to ensure that he returns home safley, and put a stop to all the petty battling over power within our own realm. Today's battle might just may be the most important day of your life."

Nyela listened to her commander give his speach. The man resembled something out of a story she remembered from her younger days; he was dressed in golden armour standing alone a short distance away from a large army garbed in an assortment of colours and armour. He was the very picture of a leader, and watching him gave hope to all the troops. Her role in this battle was fairly simple, she was to take her troops and get them to force hard against the southern side, of the town. This was to be done with arrows, catapaults, ballistas, ladders, and siege towers.

"Now take your positions!" Northwell screamed upon finishing his speach. The volume at which he was yelling at sent spittle flying in a wide arc from his mouth.

Nyela then found herself circling out infront of her men and reeling them to their position near the south gate.

"LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!" Hollered Evan in an almost supernatural voice.
And with that Nyela gave the sign for her archers to fire, and almost simultaneously a cloud of arrows shot into the sky, most of those had been lit on fire by torches and began to burn the canvas lining around the palisade. Next a line of mages stepped forward and a large cloud began to form overtop the town, sending volleys of sword sized hail and a fiery rain towards the ground. The sky above the entire battle grew dark as a group of meteors shot into the walls of the town; an infernal had been summoned. As all this happened catapaults and balistas were set on steady fire breaking holes through the thick log wall.

The ferocity of the alliance attack was soon matched by that of the horde defenders, as the might of the elements came down upon them. Nyela watched as many of the men in her front line were picked up and tossed into the air by a fierce gale of wind, and moments later a blizzard was upon them. The footsoldier beside Nyela was suddenly impaled by an overly large icicle and began to fall towards the ground in a heap, only to be illuminated in a bright white light, and lifted back up towards the ground unscathed; it was easy to see the priests were doing there work. All around the battle people were cathing aflame and being cleansed by nearby Paladins and the holy light was reviving the near-dead.

Even though great damage was being done on the alliance side it was evident that the the turmoil inside the walls was just as great, as occasionally one could see an orc or troll being tossed high into the air by a demonic arm.

As the battle raged on it was apparent that no amount of magic or healing could save everyone, as the dead began to appear on the ground. It was all Nyela could do to hope that the numbers of dead on the inside were greater then that of her own. A few minutes of contiuned elemental attacks eventually ended, as both sides took the time to fight off the increasing number of infernals in their lines.

Notching an arrow to her bow as she ran, Nyela let lose an arrow as she leaped to avoid the giant hand of the demonic beast. As she landed she watched it find its mark deep in the rock. All around, various mages and warlocks alike sent balls of fire and energy hurling into it, while all those not gifted with the talent of magic attacked it with cold steel. Bending and twirling, the demon sent all those close to its flailing arms flying back into the air or into the crowds around it.
Every now and then a shielded Paladin would land after a hard fall into the toughly packed dirt completely untouched, and Nyela felt abit of jealousy towards those who wielded the light. Soon the infernal fell, and while there were still more fighting in other parts of the army, the call was given to advance on the city.

At first only a few mages took up the order, but soon all caught on, and in a moments time a thick layer of ice covered what was once the deep ditch. This frozen moat allowed the army to advance to just below the walls and to start and scale the palisade. Ladders were soon raised and the seige towers rolled slowly forward across the ice. Now, all that the alliance army could hope for was that the two night elf rogues would be able to get that gate open.

[Zasein]

((Moat, crossroads has no moat, crossroads needs no moat. Stupid alliance and their fortifications. Feh. Seriously, our gate is just a hole in our palisade. Siege towers? Theres no walltop, you pop those things up to our 20 foot high palisades, jump out, and land on the other side and break your legs... same deal with you ladders. Knock the lil logs down...))

The battle had begun. "[Orcish] Banish the Infernals!" Zasien called out in a voice enhanced by thunder. A few warlocks complied, and the demons attacking the horde ranks lost tangibility, sent partially back to the Nether. The alliance forces swarmed over the defenders, their healers keeping them up. "[Orcish] Attack the healers!" He called again, "Make them feel the wrath of the horde."

He threw himself into the enemy, swinging his hammer, punching a hole through the front lines of foot soldiers, using an earth bind totem to keep them off him. Soon, he was all over a priest, purging away its magical shield, and cracking its skull with his hammer. In battle, he was one with the elements, their power flowed with him, the winds granted speed to his attacks. Lightening surrounded him, discharging on anyone who attacked him.

Throwing himself into the front of the alliance was not without its price though, soon he felt a sword slice into his arm, another into his side. After placing a fire nova totem, he fell back again, hoping the soldiers would not destroy it before it activated. They didn't, their focus was on him. A ring of fire spread out around the totem, singing the legs of all standing nearby it.

Now with the main body of horde forces, he healed himself before carrying on the battle. He noticed alliance footmen slicing into orcs, only to find out that their blades passed through them. Zusteakai's illusions were working well.

[Trike]

((If you noticed I changed the crossroads setup before. It would be way too easy to take the crossroads the way it is. And I don't know if it is just me, but I am pretty sure being sliced by swords, hit by demons, and burned by fire, are just as dangerous as breaking your legs by jumping 20 feet. Somehow though, no one ever challenges anyone when that is written.))

[Trike]

After a long period of waiting, and listening to the sounds of battle Trike heard it; the long bellow of a horn sounded out throughout the air, and the noise of an opening gate could be heard.

Turning around to face his army, Trike pointed his mace high in the air and yelled "Forward!"

Rushing over the hill, and down into the straight pass of land before them, the group of six hundred or so could be heard across the battle, screaming various battle cries. Breaking in through the Weastern Gate, Trike lead the men head first into the frenzy.

[Zasein]

((Good point...))

[Trike]

The defences on the weastern gate were crushed by the overflow of alliance soldiers flowing in.

Swinging his mace hard, Trike conencted with the stomach of a tall troll. Not even taking the time not make sure his blow was fatal, Trike stepped over the crumpled body to the next defender. While normally this would have been a sloppy mistake, Trike knew that behind him was a wall of steel teeth, tearing into everything that they passed.

Upon entering battles Trike always had a plan; he picked out whoever looked to be in charge and cut his way to that person. The foe that Trike had signalled out in this case was a monsterous Tauren. Towering close to ten feet above the ground, he was dressed in a suit of black and red plate armour, and carried an axe bigger then most men. While both were fighting off an entire circle of enemies, they locked eyes. Almost dropping what they were doing, they began to head straight through the crowd towards each other.

Both mowing their way through the mass of fighters, they met halfway. The Tauren wasted no time in defence, and attacked Trike the moment he could, with a hard, two-handed overhand smash. Blocking it with his shield, Trike almost crumpled over the blow. Managing to recover quickly, he dealt his opponent a blow to the side with his mace.

Judging by the reaction on the face of the Tauren, he barely even felt it.

Now a circle had formed around them, where the battle had stopped. This was a custum held by both sides for whenever two high-ranking officers faught. Upon the killing blow the surrounding circle of people would turn to their opponents, get ready, and wait for the winning officer to give the command to continue.

Both having been dealt damaging blows, the offensive side of the battle was now much less reckless, with each of them cirlcing around the other, waiting for the appropriate moment to attack. The battle continued on with much panting and snorting.

The amazing thing about Taurens, is that the more tired they get, the more angry they become. Where humans become short of breath and tired, Taurens get themselves worked up and try for harder, killing blows. This bloodlust is ultimately the death of many Taurens in duels with patient beings.

Trike could now feel the wear of the powerful blows, even if they were deflected, and was heavily basing his strategy off of the Tauren's temper. This soon paid off, as the Tauren lunged forward with a full-body jab. Steping quickly to one side, Trike reeled around and smashed the Tauren in a soft spot of fur between two plates. Now stunned, Trike unleashed a heavy judging of holy power on the bull, and finished him off with a hard smash of his hammer to the back of the bovine skull. Crashing to the ground, the Tauren's impact sent up a cloud of dirt and sand.

First leaning over the body and saying a quick prayer, Trike then turned to the silent crowd (it was customary not to cheer, even if your officer won) and yelled out in his loudest, most impressive voice:

"FOR THE ALLIANCE"

And the battle raged on

[Grimfury]

Grimfury was in Thunder Bluff readying himself for another excursion into Alteraac Valley when the dreadful news reached him that fateful evening. Swiftly he gathered up 50 of his strongest braves on their assorted mounts and rode with the wind for the crossroads. The beacons had been sounded early enough that he hoped with any luck they could make it to the crossroads before it was too late.

Darkness was starting to envelop the settlement when the band of Tauren rode in from the west on their enchanted mounts. Immediately Grimfury saw that a large contingent of Alliance had flanked around and was pouring through the western gates. "Taurahe" Damn them, may the earthmother grant us strength........FOR KALIMDOR!!!

The band of braves threw up various enchantments as the assorted warriors, druids, and shaman charged hard at the flanks of the alliance army. Grim called down the lightning and enchanted his Twig of the World Tree with the Fury of Wind. They began cutting through the surprised ranks with astonishing effectiveness. The element of surprise was theirs but it would be quickly lost. Hopefully it was not too late to save their horde brethren and the Crossroads. It was then that Grimfury sighted their leader, a towering man in the shiniest armor. Grimfury knew that the fate of the horde hinged upon the defeat of that man. He fought with rage and headed straight towards the man..............You mess with the bull, you get the horns!